


Bamtrip

by flawedamythyst



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-03
Updated: 2006-12-03
Packaged: 2018-10-16 08:51:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10567851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flawedamythyst/pseuds/flawedamythyst
Summary: Bamtrip: the sound of rain on the roof of the Impala





	

One of Dean's English teachers had taught a series of lessons on made-up words. He'd made them read 'Jabberwocky', then asked them to define 'brillig' 'slithy' and the other such words for their homework.

Dean had done it in the Impala, squinting at his exercise book in the light from his flashlight while Sam sat beside him and tried to master long division and Dad dug up, salted and burned the corpse of Jeremiah Bartholomew.

_Brillig: Dark enough that you can only see silhouettes but light enough so you can see the gleam in someone's eyes._

_Borogroves: a group of trees growing so close together that they look like they're one tree._

In their next lesson, the teacher had asked them to make up a word of their own, but not tell anyone what it meant. Then he'd made them come up one by one and write them on the blackboard and had them guess at what each other's meant. No one had guessed Dean's.

_Bamtrip: the sound of rain on the roof of the Impala_

Dean had realised that there just weren't words for some stuff, so after that he started to make up his own.

_Hicrough: The sound you make when you laugh too hard with broken ribs._

_Shrukel: the creeping feeling you get when you know there's something evil right behind you._

He shared some of them with Sam, of course. He shared everything with Sam. Sam had laughed, and then started to use them in everyday conversation. Every time he did, Dean felt a surge of pride and ownership.

_Hreathered: So hot that you can't move._

_Bralthet: Bored enough to play stupid car games like I-Spy_

There was a whole set just for Sam, of course.

_Twerby: the look on Sam's face when he was reading._

_Creeal: the feeling you get when Sam has an argument with Dad and you wonder if Sam will one day just leave._

It wasn't until Sam actually left that Dean realised there were some concepts he couldn't fit letters to, that couldn't be described in one word.

_Watching Sam's bus disappear down the road._

_The look in Dad's eyes when he found one of Sam's books tucked in the glove compartment a week after he'd gone._

After that, Dean stopped using his made-up words. There was no one who understood them now, anyway - Dad had never learnt the meanings behind them, just chuckled when Dean or Sam used them. By the time Sam came back, Dean had forgotten almost all about them.

The first time he used one, it was an accident. He was concentrating on the road as they drove through Wyoming during a thunderstorm, leaning forward to strain at the road because he couldn't see more than a few metres in front of the car, and not really paying attention to what he was saying.

"Man, listen to that bamtrip," he complained, "I hope it's not going to hail."

Sam was silent for a moment, and then cracked up.

_Garump: Sam's loud, happy laughter when he's genuinely amused and not trying to hide anything._

Dean shot him a look and then fixed his eyes back on the road. He refused to feel embarrassed, and just waited in silence until Sam had stopped laughing.

After that, he started to drop them into conversation occasionally, just to see Sam's grin of recognition. The first time Sam used one, Dean was not expecting it. They were walking through a haunted house, Dean holding a shotgun while Sam scanned with the EMF reader.

Sam suddenly paused and whispered, "I'm shrukkeling." Dean stared at him for a long moment, before his brain kicked in and he spun round to see the spirit of a woman in a bloodstained dress lunge at Sam. Dean shot her full of rocksalt and she disappeared with a shriek.

_Cladner: The moment of heart-stopping terror when you realise Sam's in danger._

They dug up the corpse of Enid Brownlow and burnt her, but didn't factor in her son, Keith, who threw Dean into a tree. Dean was knocked out for a few moments, and when he opened his eyes, Sam was bent over him looking worried, and Keith was nowhere to be seen.

"You ok?" said Sam, his voice sounding husky.

"Yeeah," groaned out Dean, sitting up and rubbing the back of his head.

Sam let out a sigh of relief and put his hand on Dean's shoulder. "Man, I thought you were..."

He didn't finish the sentence, but Dean could see the shadow of fear in Sam's eyes.

_Trumful: the feeling of slight surprise and spreading warmth when you realise how much you mean to Sam._

He put his hand on Sam's arm. "I'm fine, Sammy," he said. Sam gave him a long look and then bent forward and kissed him softly on the lips.

_Flianing: realising everything you've ever wanted is right in front of you, waiting for you to reach out and take it._

Dean froze, not sure what to do, and Sam sat back on his heels and looked panicked.

"God," he said, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I was just..."

Dean sat forward and fastened his lips over Sam's before Sam could overthink this, or run away. Sam gave a muffled sound and then opened his mouth up to Dean's tongue.

It wasn't until a few months later, when he was lying on Sam's chest, feeling his heartbeat and wondering if he was up for the next round of sex yet, that he started to tell Sam the new ones he'd been making up. He licked up the side of Sam's neck and bit his earlobe. Sam made a noise.

"That's a whickle," Dean said to him softly. Sam grinned.

Dean ran his hand down to Sam's cock and grasped it. Sam gasped and arched his back slightly.

"The burn when you push inside me," he said, stroking Sam's cock, "is called breoll." 

Sam reached up, grabbed his waist and pulled him forward. Dean let go of Sam's cock as he was pulled back onto his chest. Sam rolled them both over and grabbed the lube from the bedside table.

As he started to push two slick fingers inside Dean, Dean pushed his hips up and said, "The look you give me through your hair, when you're sucking me off and I'm about to come is delgic."

Sam laughed, softly, and Dean wondered if he was beginning to sound like a girl. Sam pressed a third finger inside him, and Dean took the opportunity to stop speaking and let all thought flee from his head.

The next morning, Dean woke up before Sam for once. Sam was pressed up against his body, with one arm flung over his chest. Dean watched him sleep for a while, trying to think of a word to describe a mixture of friend, brother and lover. Then Sam stirred, and blinked his eyes open. He met Dean's gaze and smiled sleepily and Dean realised that he didn't need to think of a word for it, because 'Sam' was all that, and more besides.


End file.
